


Everything Ends

by Catz95



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Deacury, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Masturbation, Maylor - Freeform, Men Crying, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Romance, Smoking, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catz95/pseuds/Catz95
Summary: Something that was supposed to happen only once turned into so much more.
Relationships: Brian May/Chrissie Mullen, Brian May/Roger Taylor, Dominique Beyrand/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	Everything Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Warning!! Heavy angst ahead! This a smut sandwich but the meat is just a bunch of angst. I've been in a foul mood the past couple days and took it out on our boys.
> 
> I moved Rufus Tiger Taylor’s birth to 1978, along with Emily Ruth May. I also shifted when Sheer Heart Attack was released and thus the incident where Brian nearly lost his arm got moved to 1978 and some other relationship dates got moved around also. Oh and I butchered Storm Trooper in Stilettos.

The first time happened back when they were still in the band Smile, still touring out the back of a van.

The gig had gone absolutely fantastic that night. So, the band and their followers, used that as an excuse to get entirely fucking smashed. Brian and Roger had stumbled into the room they were sharing after the party, basically carrying each other.

Roger fell heavily on the bed they were sharing, sweaty from the party and the late evening heat. He wore a tank top and shorts that showed off the top of his ass cheeks. Brian watched as Roger pressed his face into the soft bedding and let out a long drawn out moan.

Brian rolled his eyes but found that was a bad idea. His head swam and he staggered, barely making it to the bed himself. His clothes stuck to his back uncomfortably but he found peace in closing his eyes to the spinning room around him.

They laid like that for a while, steadily breathing, and Brian was sure Roger had gone to sleep- until a loud gasp came from Roger’s lips. Brian opened one eye to see a mound of blond hair in his vision and Roger on his belly. He was just a few inches from Brian and his shorts were unbuttoned, his hand inside them. He rocked back and forth as he shamelessly rubbed himself against his own hand.

“Roger?” Brian said hoarsely, feeling Roger moving around. Roger didn’t reply, he just gasped again and moaned.

The world swam again in front of Brian’s eyes. He could see the dip in Roger’s back dimly in the dark, and without a thought brought his finger tips to it. He ran the rough pads of his fingers down Roger’s spine, almost out of pure drunken curiosity. Roger whimpered, humping harder into his hand in response.

Roger turned his head to look at Brian, his eyes dark and hazy in the shadows. The lamplight outside landed across him in a strip, making Brian able to see Roger’s eye lashes. They fluttered when Brian brought his finger tips to the top of Roger’s ass and dragged them across the waistband of his shorts.

Brian hooked his arm around Roger and pulled the shorter man against him. Roger’s hand snaked out from his shorts and reached to pull the shorts down his thighs more, allowing himself to get free of the denim that had been biting into his skin. 

Brian hummed as he raked his fingers through Roger’s long blond locks, feeling the heaviness of Roger’s erection on his thigh. He didn’t remember discarding his trousers or pants but he had, apparently. 

Roger grabbed a fist full of the open button down Brian had on still, burying his flushed and warm face into the top of Brian’s chest. He whimpered and groaned as he went back to rocking back and forth, this time his dick pressing hard against Brian’s thigh. The friction brought Brian’s own dick to attention, his growing erection rubbing against Roger’s. Brian brought his face into Roger’s soft hair and gasped meeting Roger’s thrusts with his own. His drunk mind briefly let him realize he was rutting against his best friend but the thought quickly disappeared when he felt the deep heat of their friction shoot down his abdomen. 

Roger’s nails dug into Brian’s chest and he let out one last cry as he came, his hot ropy cum covering Brian’s upper thigh. Roger panted and thrust as he finished; Then much to Brian’s surprise, Roger fumbled his hand down to Brian’s thigh, rubbing into the cum, and then wrapped his hand around Brian’s dick. Roger’s slick palm glided up Brian effortlessly. Brian moaned, throwing his head back. His eyes shut tight as Roger expertly tugged him, squeezing him hard under the head of his dick. It wasn’t long until Brian came in Roger’s hand and reality frayed around the edges.

= = = =

The next morning Brian woke up, tangled and stiff, against Roger. Dried cum was on on his thigh and the both of them reeking of sweat, cigarettes and booze. 

“Shit,” Brian swore. The sunlight made his eyes ache.

Brian went to pull away from Roger, his head throbbing and a sleepy arm pulled him back into the maw of Roger’s sweaty body. 

“Rog, no, let go-”

Roger sleepily opened an eye to look at Brian. “Wha-?”

“I’m not your girlfriend,” Brian untangled himself from Roger and pulled away finally, looking down at his naked lower torso and clicking his tongue. Roger’s legs were bare too, and his soft dick nestled in his pubic hair, satisfied from whatever they had been up to the night before.

Roger rubbed his eye with his hand lazily. He tried to make out Brian without having glasses on, and it only took him a second to realize his hand was crusty like Brian’s thigh.

“Ugh,” Roger rubbed his hand against his hip and looked back at Brian puzzled. “Did we…?”

Brian just stared at Roger in disbelief for a moment, bringing his palm to rub at his forehead. “I don’t know, I mean I do know, I mean we did something clearly-”

Roger shrugged, rolling onto his back, a cheeky grin on his face. “Musta been good whatever it was cuz you seem to remember it more than me.”

“Oi!” Brian slapped Roger’s stomach and Roger howled with laughter.

“At least get me a cigarette won’t you darling?” Roger wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re such an ass.”

Roger sighed, rolling his eyes. He got up to look for his discarded shorts so he could grab his cigarette pack and lighter. 

“No Brian, THIS is my ass,” Roger said as he bent over, giving Brian a full moon.

Brian threw a pillow at him. “That is never going to happen again-”

“I didn’t expect that it would,” Roger laughed for a moment but then he pressed his lips together around a cigarette. Once he had it lit he took a drag and looked at Brian sympathetically. “Unless you want round two to see what I can _really_ do-”

“SHUT UP!”

= = = =

But it did happen again- and again. And again. Sometimes they were drunk, most of the time they weren’t. Sometimes they had girlfriends waiting at home, sometimes they didn’t. It’s just two pals lonely on a tour they reasoned. As time passed and they became part of Queen, Freddie and John had something going on, and when they finally came out with it, Brian and Roger couldn’t help but laugh much to their annoyance.

“If you two were any louder we would have had to file a complaint to Ratty,” Roger joked as he wiped his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” Freddie said, sitting at one of the bus tables, a blush across his cheeks. “If you two got any louder-”

Roger’s eyes widened. “Us?” 

Brian and Roger glanced at each other, shock and fear on their faces.

“Yes, when you’re masturbating, or whatever the hell you’re doing to yourselves,” Freddie made a face and Roger could see Brian visibly deflate in relief. 

John cleared his throat, “You can’t blame them, touring takes a lot out of all of us; Their girlfriends are half way across the country right now-”

Freddie sighed, “Always the sensible one.”  
  
Deaky scratched at Freddie’s scalp and glanced at Brian and Roger, clearly seeing how much they were trying to not make any eye contact whatsoever and he frowned. “It’s really not that bad, guys, really. Freddie just doesn’t like being teased.”

“Freddie can speak for himself,” Freddie huffed.

= = = =

That night, Roger and Brian laid on the roof of the tour bus. They were parked on the edge of a camp ground. The stars above them stood out from no light pollution and smoke rose from Roger’s lips into the cold air.

“It is just like masturbation though,” Brian said, out of the blue. Clearly his mind had been running overdrive since that morning. “They just don’t know we’re doing it together-”

“Yeah,” Roger folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not like we kiss or do anything except touch each other’s dicks.” 

Brian snorted, putting his hands behind his head. “Nice Rog.”

“What I’m saying is, it doesn’t mean anything,” Roger took another drag of his cigarette before putting it out and tossed it over the side of the bus. 

Brian stared at Roger for a long moment. Roger needed a shave and his cheek bones stood out beautifully on his side profile. His jaw always made Brian’s stomach flutter and the feeling of Roger’s heartbeat through his chest when they cuddled after… whatever it was they were doing… always made something in Brian’s chest ache. Brian thought for a moment he might mention something, anything, just to test some sort of uncharted waters that remained between them after five years, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want to lose this.

Roger glanced at Brian after noticing him staring and frowned. “You okay?”

Brian smiled and shook his head. “Yeah I’m fine. Just missing Chrissie I guess.”

Roger wrinkled his ever expressive nose and pressed his lips together. “Sure, Bri.” He turned his attention back up to the sky.

= = = =

In hindsight it seemed inevitable that this would happen, Brian thought much later after the incident at the pool. It didn’t make it any better though.

The party had been in full swing, drinks ever flowing and Freddie basically crowd surfing around, literally. Brian had spotted Roger tucked in a corner somewhere with a vodka bottle shoved between his lips. Thankfully it hadn’t been full when Roger had gotten his hands on it and Brian knew better than to try to take it from him.

Things with Dominique hadn’t been good lately. Ever since Rufus had been born the dynamics of pretty much everything had changed. Roger no longer slept in Brian’s bed and they never talked about it. Brian knew it would end eventually, nothing lasts forever. Even Freddie and John broke up after a year. They were all still close but they were definitely beginning to drift apart, something he hoped would never happen. But here they were. 

Brian had a newborn at home too so he supposed he should have been more worried about Chrissie and the new baby. It was hard to do when he was touring though, something he was definitely not proud of. What kind of man did that make him?

Somehow at some point Brian ended up near the pool with an absolutely smashed Roger in front of him screaming incoherently. People were starting to stare as Brian tried to calm Roger down. His hands were on Roger’s shoulders, rubbing up and down, trying to sooth him. Roger was a snotty crying mess and his leather jacket was cold under Brian’s hands.

John ran over with Veronica in tow. “What’s going on? I could hear Roger shouting all the way in the house-”

“AND,” Roger continued to shout. “Of course, you just don’t see it- you never see it, you never see anything you’re always stuck in that stupid head of yours-”

“Roger, I don’t know what you’re even talking about,” Brian pleaded. “Please, can we do this somewhere else? People are looking-”

Roger balled up his fists and screwed up his face, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. He looked like he was going to hit Brian. “I want them to look! I want them to see! See what you clearly don’t or don’t want to-”

“Roger what are you-”

Roger lunged at him and Brian braced himself, expecting to be wrestled to the ground, but instead Roger was grabbing the sides of Brian’s face to the point it almost hurt. 

Roger’s mouth was on Brian’s, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, seeking Brian’s lips. For a moment Brian forgot people were looking and he hungrily returned the kiss, gripping at Roger’s shoulders for dear life. 

He’d wanted this for years, yearned for it, and a feeling he never felt before ripped through his stomach, one of triumph and sorrow. It was too late now, they both had wives, and children; This couldn’t happen this couldn’t-

It was like time had stopped. Brian whirled Roger around as he pulled away, tears now pouring down his face. In slow motion Roger fell backwards, his hand reaching towards Brian, his mouth open in surprise as he lost his balance. 

The party was deadly quiet now as Roger fell into the pool, the splash deafening. Brian’s breath hitched as he watched Roger sink, and then come up again, gasping for air, his hair plastered to his forehead.

Brian turned, not registering anything except Freddie’s face, eyes wide, lips open in shock, his short hair seeming to stand on end. He said nothing as he stomped away, a mess of anger and tears. Freddie tried to stop him as he heard John trying to help Roger out of the pool behind him, and Brian pulled away.

“Fine,” Roger shouted, wiping his mouth and glaring at the back of Brian’s head. “Run off like you always do, coward!”

Brian winced and continued his way out into the street.

= = = =

Sometime later, Brian had started his car and tried to drive away but knew he was far too drunk. He pulled down the road some away from the house at least, parked again, and began to openly sob. How could something so silly and in the moment years ago lead to this? How did this happen?

He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel and wept, gasping for air as his nose filled and he could no longer use it to breathe. Panic filled him. He wrapped his arms around himself and clawed at his arms, trying to feel something, anything, other than the pain that ripped through his chest. 

There was a rapping at the passenger window and he ignored it and continued to sob, his chest heaving.

When the rapping became more insistent, Brian gulped down his sorrow and looked into the darkness to see that swath of blond hair he had often seen in his arms for years and years; Hair he had touched and caressed and washed more than once in the shower, when they dared. 

“Brian, please,” Roger’s voice carried through the window, muffled. His knuckles pressed against the glass, turning ghostly white. 

Brian roughly rubbed his palm against his face, sniffed and unlocked the passenger door He tried desperately to steel his face even though he knew Roger saw him hysterical just now.

Roger scrambled into the car before Brian had time to change his mind and slammed the door shut. 

“I’m sorry- I...”

“No, Roger, this was always going to happen,” Brian said, not knowing where this dead pan voice was coming from. “Everything ends, and this is the end.”

“Brian no, just let-”

“You have a family now- _We_ have families now. This was never going to lead anywhere. We were just having a bit of fun.”

Roger’s eyes began to fill with tears again, and his hands gripped his own jacket desperately as if he were trying to anchor himself into reality. 

“It was more than that, you knew it, I always saw it on your face. You always knew this was more than just-”

“Just what?” Brian shouted, watching Roger flinch. “Borderline fucking? Sweet words and promises that never meant anything?”

Roger opened his mouth but no sound came from it. His eyebrows met each other and he began to shake.

“Roger,” Brian said, his resolve breaking. “Go home. Go to your baby. He nearly died, he needs you. Dominique needs you. Any need I have for you is just selfish- it’s just meaningless- its just-”

“You don’t mean that,” Roger’s voice was so tiny, and so was the rest of him, in a way way that Brian never quite understood. Roger would fold into himself, his eyes getting far too large, giant lakes of blue that pulled Brian down with just a glance. 

The last time he had seen Roger like this he wasn’t sure if Rufus was going to make it and he had openly sobbed into Brian’s chest for hours.

“I do,” Brian’s voice steeled again. “It’s over, and it never was anything. Now go home.”

Roger didn’t get out, not right away. He seemed to be waiting for Brian to say something else, to change his mind, but the change never came. Roger hung his head and finally got out of the car. For a long time Brian watched as Roger’s form became smaller and smaller as he walked away.

= = = =

Freddie had asked him way too many damn times if he wanted to talk about it and Roger kept insisting there was nothing to talk about, it was just a misunderstanding between him and Brian and that was it. They still worked fine together, wasn’t that enough?

Freddie never asked about the kiss.

= = = =

Crying erupted through the kitchen, a tiny little cry like a mewling kitten. Dominique sat at the kitchen table rocking Rufus in her arms, trying to soothe him, her eyes tired. She looked at her husband who stood at the counter, his hands pressed into it and his head bowed. They had been fighting off and on the better part of the afternoon over god knows what, and now Rufus was gassy. 

“Roger, why don’t you just admit it-”

“Admit what? There’s nothing to admit! I’m so tired of you accusing me-”

Dominique shushed him, patting Rufus gently on the back, shaking her head. “You’re miserable Roger! You have been for months! I’m your wife, I’m not stupid.”

Roger wheeled around. “So I’m miserable! What’s it matter? You’re miserable, Rufus is miserable, hell the damn cat is miserable.”

Dominique stared at him, biting her bottom lip. 

“I never have sugar coated anything for you right?” She said after some time.

Roger’s eyes softened some and he sighed, grabbing a chair to sit down. “No Dom, and I love that about you.”

“Then I’m going to say it, what we all know.” 

Rufus now cooed in Dominique’s arms, and she handed him to Roger, who placed the baby on his chest. The baby snuggled, gripping his little fist around the collar of Roger’s t-shirt.

“You love him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I love Rufus,” Roger said, confusion over taking his features. “And you.”

Dominique sighed heavily. “I know you love us, but you know that’s not what I’m talking about. We both know.”

Roger opened his mouth to protest but Dominique put her hand up and shushed him again. Rufus’s eyes blinked sleepily, warming Roger’s chest and ebbing the pain he felt flowing through him.

“He’s been there before me, and he’ll be there long after me too,” Dominique said matter of fact. “I can’t pretend to fully understand it but I already sensed it when we first got together. You can’t hide things like that Roger, it’s not possible.”

A humiliated blush bloomed over Roger’s face. He looked down at his son, breathing gently, smelling so fresh and clean. This was his whole entire life, right here, on his chest, and yet there was Dominique, though looking tired, remaining strong and calm.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dominique continued, reaching across the table. Roger shifted to hold Rufus with one hand and brought his other to meet hers. “We’re not going anywhere, but Brian has. Ever since that party Brian hasn’t been the same; We’ve all seen it. And he nearly lost his arm last month. Roger, he needs you, no matter what that means between the two of you.”

“But,” Roger’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

“And you still will,” Dominique smiled. “Our love is different, and that doesn’t make it any less valid.” She squeezed Roger’s hand. “Go find him. You’re the only one that can. Chrissie called me and said he’s been gone for a week.”

Roger frowned.

= = = = =

Just as Roger suspected, Brian’s car was parked in front of the inn a few miles from Brian’s home. He and Brian use to go there to write songs, and to get away from Freddie and John when they got a bit too kissy. Many nights they had sat in the dim hotel light, laughing, as Brian played the red special idly, and papers were strewn around the two of them. 

The lit up sign of ‘No Vacancy’ washed red light over him as he reached into his glove compartment to grab his cigarettes. He stared at the pack for a moment, thoughts racing through his head. What would he say? It had been weeks since they last spoke. Surely he couldn’t just knock and say ‘Oh hey my wife says she’s fine with us fucking so-’

He snorted and put the smokes in his rolled up sleeve of his white button up, and took a deep breath. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He couldn’t leave things like this.

The room Brian chose was the same one they always got. The desk clerk recognized Roger instantly and was eager to tell him where Brian was. He probably wasn’t supposed to do that but Roger was the drummer of Queen and getting people to tell him stuff was one of the perks of that he supposed.

With a deep breath he stopped in the hall of the inn’s rooms. He hesitated before he knocked on the door to Brian’s room. He instinctively went to sweep his hair behind his ear but remembered he had cut it. Damn. 

Gently, he knocked, almost not expecting it to be heard, but sure enough the dead bolt slid back and there stood Brian. He had a month’s old beard, wore an old t-shirt, and smelled tangy. His hair was a rat nest around his face, still curls but not the lovely ones he usually carefully tried to craft. His eyes were red from crying.

“Bri-” Roger said softly, fearing Brian would slam the door into his face.

“What’re you doing here?”

Brian didn’t shout but Roger almost would have preferred if he had. Brian’s voice sounded so defeated and Roger almost started to feel scared. Could he really bring Brian back from this?

“Chrissie said she hadn’t seen you for a week.”

“Oh.”

Roger cleared his throat. “Can- er… can I come in?”

Silently, Brian stepped back from the door way to allow Roger past, and Roger grimaced at the state of the room. All around the room were empty pizza boxes, dirty socks and more than a large amount of empty bottles of different sizes and brands. On the sink sat a half empty whiskey bottle.

“Er, Brian?” Roger scratched at the back of his head as he surveyed the room. The bed was an unmade mess but looked like the best candidate for sitting because the only chair in the room was covered in clothes. “How long have you been held up here?”

“Couple weeks,” Brian grunted. “I’ve checked up on Chrissie and the baby as much as I could but I guess I forgot-”

“You forgot.” Roger repeated as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Where is the other chair that’s usually in here?”

“Broke it.”

Roger’s eyebrows rose. “How?”

“Threw it out the window.”

An awkward silence spread between them as Roger looked at Brian who just stared down at his feet and rubbed the arm he had been in the hospital for.

“Well, have you been doing anything in here besides breaking shit and drinking?”

This made Brian’s eyes light up finally, much to Roger’s relief. Brian grabbed the acoustic guitar in the corner and went to sit next to Roger. 

“I wrote a song for the album. I know it’s late but-”

“I want to hear it,” Roger said, thankful for the olive branch. 

Brian cleared his throat. “It still needs work obviously-”

“Go on then,” Roger played with the fray on his pants in anticipation.

Brian took a deep breath and began strumming and stamping his foot with the beat. His voice was raspy.

_‘I love...he makes me_  
_He is my heart_  
_He is my love_  
_I know you're jealous of him_  
_He makes me need_  
_He is my love_

_Who knows who he'll make me_  
_As I lie in his cocoon_  
_But the world will surely heal my ills_  
_I'm warm and terrified_  
_He makes me so…’_

Brian paused, frowning at Roger, who nodded in encouragement for him to continue.

_‘I know the day I leave him_  
_I'd love him still_  
_He is my love...’_

Brian’s voice trailed off and he peered over to Roger anxiously.  
  
Roger stared. 

“You don’t like it?”

“Oh I definitely do.”

Brian cautiously reached to grab Roger’s hand and brought his knuckles to his lips. Brian held his lips there until Roger’s hand slowly moved to gently cup the side of Brian’s face. Brian slipped the guitar to the side of the bed.

A couple tears slipped from Brian’s eyes as he kissed the palm of Roger’s hand. 

“I’m so sorry,” Roger’s voice was shaking. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

Without preamble, Roger moved further onto the bed, tugging Brian with him, and their lips intertwined. Brian’s shirt lifted and Roger’s fingers dug at the skin of his back, deepening the kiss and pulling Brian close so they were both laying on their sides facing each other.

“Been wanting to kiss you for years,” Roger murmured, his fingers scratching at Brian’s scalp. “Your lips are so pretty-”

Brian let out a sob.

“Oh, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Roger said, reaching to caress Brian’s bearded cheek gently. He then gathered the taller man into his arms.

Brian’s warm lips found Roger’s collar bone and Roger’s lips found Brian’s brow. They stayed like that, holding each other, until Brian began to grind against Roger, tilting his head up to have his lips captured by Roger’s again. 

Their tongues met slow, and their hands roamed to all the places once forbidden before. Brian grabbed Roger by the hips and ground against him harder.

It wasn’t long before clothes were shed and Roger found himself on top of Brian, grinding against him hard, their breath hitching. Roger kissed up Brian’s neck, biting down into his flesh when Brian grabbed his ass roughly to make him thrust faster. 

Their cocks rubbed together, both leaking. Roger knew they weren’t going to last much longer. He gently brought his lips to Brian’s, gasping into his mouth when Brian’s fingers wrapped around them both, moving up and down, squeezing gently. This was enough to push them both over, and they shuddered as they hit their peak.

Roger buried his face into Brian’s neck and cried out as he came, panting and babbling Brian’s name, kissing up his throat as Brian came too. Brian tossed his head back, his breath rapid. Once they were both back to reality, Roger opened his eyes to see Brian looking up at him, the first genuine smile on his face on a while.

“I missed you, Rog.”

Roger never hugged someone harder in his life.

= = = =

A life time later after a long cuddle session and talking openly for the first time in a long time, Roger had managed to coax Brian into the bathtub.

He kneeled, still naked, on a towel he had set on the floor. His tongue jutted out out of his mouth as he worked shampoo into Brian’s locks, and Brian sat in the water, his arms wrapped around his legs. The tangles took some time for him to work his finger tips through, but Roger wouldn’t have traded this for anything. 

Brian’s eyes were closed, his cheek pressed against his knee. “You came back to me,” he said softly after a while. 

Roger paused, looking over Brian’s face. His eyelashes splayed across his cheeks and his skin was slightly red from the heat of the water. His hair was a sudsy wet cloud around his head. He pressed his lips against Brian’s exposed cheek and muttered against it, “And I’m never going to leave again. I promise.”


End file.
